


The story of how Arthur decided not to murder Eames

by tablemanners



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, High School, M/M, Possessive Eames, School Project
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-15 13:51:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7224934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tablemanners/pseuds/tablemanners
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this High school au of Inception, Arthur cannot stand flamboyant Eames and all of his shit. Sadly enough, Arthur winds up getting stuck with him and contemplates a murder-suicide several times. After all, Arthur CANNOT stand Eames. Sucks to be Arthur.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur hasn't killed Eames yet

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this! I'm not exactly sure how long I plan for this to be, but it won't be ridiculously long. Maybe around five chapters. I've been wanting to do an Inception au but I feel like every time I try to start something the characters are all wrong. I'll try to update every other day, if not everyday. We'll see, I'm not that trustworthy when it comes to these things.

“Ariadne,” Arthur said with a downcast look, “would you promise to keep your mouth shut if I murdered Eames?” 

At this Ariadne raised her eyebrows, amused and surprised by the question. “Why would you ever dream of asking me such a thing?” She asked him, hiding her smirk with an obnoxious cough.

Arthur huffed, upset by her response. “Honestly, do you even need to ask me that? You’ve seen his behavior, I figured you’d offer to aid me in my crime.” Arthur looked rather glum as he said this. Ariadne laughed at that, shaking her head lightly and giving him playful nudge to the shoulder. 

“Well, I think he’s charming.” She replied smartly, eyeing the British boy on the other side of the lunch room. “See how he devours that chicken with such grace?” Eames’ hands were greasy, as was his mouth, as he ripped a large chunk of meat out of the fried chicken leg. He didn’t bother using a napkin, causing Arthur to shudder internally.

“What I don’t understand is how those cheerleaders don’t seem to see it. With anybody else, they’d be fleeing in the blink of an eye, but not with dear old Eames.” Arthur grumbled, clearly upset. 

“Who knows, maybe it’s a new method of flirting,” Yusuf said with a shrug, open to the new possibility, “maybe I should try it out.” 

“Oh please, do not.” Ariadne said with disgust dripping off of every word. Arthur chuckled, amused by Yusuf and Ariadne’s antics. “Anyway, I don’t get your deal with the guy, Arthur. He’s nice enough, maybe a little rough around the edges but overall he’s a pretty good guy.” 

Arthur looked as though he’d just been stabbed in the back. “Not you too, Ariadne! Yusuf, back me up here!” Arthur whined, turning to his other friend for some reliable support. To Arthur’s dismay, Yusuf only shrugged then turned back to his meal. “Look at him! His choice of clothing is, in one word, atrocious. He’s obnoxious, even you guys have to admit it’s hard to get work done when he’s there! He’s thinks he’s the best of the best, how cocky is that? Eames is a jerk and I plan to kill him.” Arthur settled down after his brief rant, losing any hope he may have had in humanity as Eames guffawed loudly from the other side of the already noisy cafeteria. Of course Eames just had to add to the chaos.

“Okay, so maybe some of those things are true,” Ariadne started, causing Arthur to roll his eyes at the continuation of the dull topic of Eames, “but he’s got good points as well. One, he’s incredibly hot. Two, he’s incredibly smart. Three, he’s incredibly good at football, and four, he’s practically a prodigy when it comes to theatre. Plus he’s funny. He’s a great guy and I think you know it. You just don’t want to admit you were one-upped.”

Arthur opened his mouth to speak again, but was silenced when Yusuf slammed his fists on the table. “You’re all obsessed! Can’t we talk about something else?” Yusuf cried out, clearly annoyed by all of their shenanigans. “Here comes a normal person! Cobb, please, save me from these lunatics!” Yusuf waved Dominic Cobb over to their table dramatically. 

“What’s up, old man?” Ariadne asked jokingly. Cobb was a senior, whilst the others were all sophomores. They liked to joke with him, a constant stream of puns, insults and name-calling. 

Cobb took the seat next to Yusuf, chuckling as Ariadne’s question. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you guys something. I’m planning on asking Mal to senior prom, and I was wondering, how should I do it?” 

Ariadne’s eyes lit up at the question. She lived for prom, for parties and social gatherings of any kind. It was like a calling. Arthur met Yusuf’s eyes, each of them sharing pained expressions with the other. Luckily for them, there were only a few short minutes left of lunch. Before Ariadne got too in depth, they were forced to split and head out to their next classes.

“Wish me luck in architecture, we’ve got some crazy exam with triangles on it. Sometimes I feel like I’m retaking geometry.” Ariadne complained before she was whisked down the hall, out of sight. Arthur chuckled to himself, then braced himself for his journey to his next classroom. He had history next, on the second floor. Much to his despair, Eames was in that class with him.

Arthur was almost late to AP World History, mostly because the halls were utter chaos. People shoved against each other, couples blocked the hallways while they made out, and Arthur very nearly dropped all of his things on the filthy floor. He finally scurried along to his class, taking the only open seat available. See, with his teacher, Mr. Cobal, seats were first come first serve. There were no seating charts, no order to the classroom. Arthur was fine with that as long as they were able to get work done. 

Arthur had one friend in that class, and that friend was the very wealthy Saito. Saito was constantly the talk of the school even though he was only there 50% of the time. He’s disappear for weeks at a time, rumors said he’d gone off to some Asian country to help with his father’s enterprise. This was partly true, but it wasn’t Arthur’s place to disclose the personal information of others. Saito was in class today, to Arthur’s relief, so he’d be able to partner up with him if any group projects arose. 

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Mr. Cobal said from the front of the room, pining for his class’s attention. “Now, who completed the reading last night?” Very few students raised their hands. Of course, Arthur raised his hand. He always did his homework in time. Arthur shot Saito a disapproving look when Saito didn’t raise his hand. Mr. Cobal looked at the class in disarray, unsure of what to do and how to do it. “Well, I suppose I should allow all of you to complete chapter 13 before we begin the project. Please, finish the rest by tomorrow. I’m giving you all of class today.” The class cheered, Arthur groaned, and Mr. Cobal looked so very tired. 

About halfway through the class, Eames began to screw around. He made several paper airplanes, playing with those rather than looking at his textbook. He also sent notes around the room, one of which read: Arthur is such a tight-ass. Arthur assumed Eames hadn’t planned on Arthur himself getting the insulting note, but when Arthur turned around to raise an eyebrow at Eames, Eames only smiled back, then made another airplane. Soon enough Mr. Cobal caught wind of Eames’ antics, and of his chattering with the students around him. He gossiped with Robert Fischer, a young entrepreneur who had many hopes for life, as well as Mal, Cobb’s beloved. They laughed amongst themselves, not even trying to be discreet. 

“Are you three finished with your work?” Mr. Cobal asked them with an upsetting frown on his face. Eames’ smile faltered, only for a second, and he quickly regained his wit. 

“Do you think I’m finished?” Eames asked, smiling innocently up at the teacher. Arthur groaned in annoyance, burying his head in his arms. Eames was just too much to handle. 

His exhibition of annoyance backfired, because it served as a reminder to Mr. Cobal that he had the perfect student just a few yards away. “Eames, how about we switch your seat? There’s an empty one, right over there, next to Arthur. Maybe he’ll get you sorted on the right track,” Mr. Cobal instructed pointing towards Arthur. He shot an apologetic look at Arthur as he did so, but it was nowhere near the apology Arthur would need to even consider forgiving such an act. Eames was able to suppress his smile as he gathered his belongings, hauling them a few seats over so that he was right next to Arthur. 

“Hello, darling,” Eames purred in a sultry voice, smirking at the miserable boy next to him. “So I see you completed your homework? Could you please explain it to me?” 

Arthur turned to face Eames, the irritation on his face rather easy to read. “Can you just act like a normal person for one day? Scratch that, just one class period, geez.” Arthur groaned, eyebrows furrowed into a harsh frown. “Just read the chapter and jot down some notes. It’s not that difficult.”

Mr. Cobal gave Arthur a thumbs up when Eames actually opened the textbook, however getting him to turn to the right page, then read that page was something else. That night, Arthur was exhausted and officially hated Eames ten times more than he used to.

Apparently Mr. Cobal thought that had discovered something brilliant, placing the trouble maker next to the perfect student, and he had cooked up a seating chart by the next day. For the first half of the year it had been freelance seating, and now all of a sudden Arthur was supposed to sit next to his worst nightmare? Talk about a letdown.

“Here we are again, darling.” Eames said as he settled down into his newly assigned seat in the front of them room, setting his feet atop of the desk comfortably. 

“My name is Arthur, not ‘darling,’ Eames,” Arthur said sternly, mimicking Eames’ accent, “and please, for the love of God, get your feet off of the table!” Eames chuckled at Arthur’s dismay, actually listening to Arthur and removed his feet from the table, putting them in Arthur’s lap instead. Arthur shoved them off in disgust, counting to ten in his head as he tried to calm himself down. Class had been dreadful, and Arthur was so glad it was Friday, and that he wouldn’t have to see Eames until Monday. 

“You should go to the game tonight,” Eames suggested, leaning in a bit too closely. “I’ll be playing, I promise we’ll win!” Eames had another obnoxious smile on his face when he said this.

“I’m not going to waste my money on some dumb ticket to a high school football game.” Arthur sounded appalled when he said this, shaking his head with repugnance. To his surprise, Eames handed him a ticket, putting it in the middle of his desk.

“There, now you don’t have an excuse. I want to see you there. If not, I’ll make the rest of the year a living Hell.” Though his smile looked genuine and friendly, those last words shook Arthur to the core. He supposed one game couldn’t hurt him more than it could help him.

The class period passed rather quickly, and on his way out the door, he was pulled aside by Mr. Cobal. “Hey Arthur, I just wanted to say I really appreciate you sitting next to Eames. He isn’t as bad as before, and I’m sure that soon enough he’ll be a fully functioning student!” Arthur smiled politely and gave the proper “thank you” in response, but it looked as though Mr. Cobal wasn’t done there. “I just wanted to give you a heads up. I’m assigning groups of two for the upcoming project, and I’m putting you with Eames. He really is a bright student, he just needs to learn some work ethic.” Mr. Cobal knew what he was doing, he was handed his biggest workload off to Arthur for him to handle. 

Arthur gave a wary “okay, thanks,” before he hurried out of the room, furious. He found Ariadne in the hall and told her everything in one rushed, run-on sentence. Of course, she seemed rather pleasant in response, even happy for Arthur when he told her the news. “Ariadne, can you just drop your pretentious bullshit and hear me out? I’m going to die! Eames is going to kill me! Can you at least do something to help me out?” 

“Arthur, you poor dramatic thing you. How about this: We’ll all go to the game together tonight, and try to discuss all of your troubles later. Take the weekend to relax, calm down, and try to get a positive outlook on all of this. Now I’ve got to get going, I can’t be late again. Bye, Arty!” Ariadne called, gone in one swoop of the crowd. Arthur sighed, remorse filling him as he asked himself how he got himself into such an infuriating situation. 

Ariadne’s right, he though, settling into his study hall, I’ve just got to calm down. No big deal. Everyone deals with pesky peers every now and then. Eames can’t be too hard to handle. Despite all of this, Arthur still loathed agreeing to go to the game. However once he brought Ariadne into it, he knew there was no backing out. He could only wait and see how the night would unfold.


	2. What even is football

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur suffers through a football game, and then an after party, all the while Ariadne is doing her best to humiliate him in front of Eames even though Arthur is still in deep denial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it took so long to post this, I guess I lied when I said I'd be posting every other day. I'll do my best to post as frequently as possible, however I can't make any promises. This isn't my best work, so sorry about that. Either way, please leave reviews and stuff below.

Arthur was not very accustomed to social gatherings such as football games. He and Ariadne made the mistake of sitting next to the pep band, and though they weren’t bad, they were incredibly loud. “So how does the game work again?” Arthur asked, both cold and irritated.

“From what I can understand, you try to get the ball to one end of the field.” Ariadne answered with a shrug, shoveling in shitty popcorn from the concession stand. “Other than that, I’m lost.”

The game hadn’t even started and already Arthur wanted to leave. From what he could tell, football games usually lasted at least a few hours. It was cold, and the wind seemed to blow right through his thin blanket. However, if this was what it would take to get Eames to cooperate in history, he figured the outcome outweighed his suffering. 

“So Arthur, have you found any cute guys yet? That is, besides Eames.” Ariadne hadn’t brought her own blanket, and as a result she was hogging Arthur’s sorry excuse for one. She didn’t seem very intrigued by the game, and resorted to meddling in Arthur’s love life, or lack thereof. 

“Ariadne, I already told you I’m not gay, and besides, even if I was there is no way on God’s green Earth that I would ever associate the word ‘cute’ with Eames,” Arthur grumbled with a swift yank as he retrieved his blanket from Ariadne’s lap. “Look, I think they’re announcing the teams now. Finally.” 

Ariadne laughed at Arthur’s melodramatic behavior, shaking her head and turning her attention to the field. There was a lot of booing from the visiting team as cheerleaders made a pathway for their football team, each important member taking his time to run through it and bask in the cheers of their school. Eames was especially showy, bowing at the end and blowing kisses in a multitude of directions. “What a showoff,” Arthur stated, frowning directly at his peer and the apparent “hero” of the football team. 

Ariadne nudged him in the shoulder, correcting him, “A hot showoff, Arthur, and that makes all the difference.” She was raising an eyebrow knowingly, smirking at the incredibly confused Arthur. 

“Sure,” he trailed off, skepticism in his voice. He turned back to the field and watched as a few more members made their way through the cheerleaders. None of them seemed to amount to Eames’ intro. Finally the game was in play, and it seemed to drag on slowly. Arthur heard Eames’ name announced over the speakers a couple of times, saying words that Arthur didn’t understand. He wasn’t much of a football person. 

“Is it over?” Arthur asked Ariadne, begrudged, as the buzzer went off. 

Ariadne looked guilty, and a bit sorry for Arthur, as she covered her mouth to keep her from laughing. “Arthur, you poor thing,” She mumbled, avoiding eye contact with him. “Arthur, I’m sorry to tell you it’s only halftime.” Ariadne said, a small smirk on her lips. Arthur groaned, clearly upset, and pulled his blanket closer to him, closing his eyes and shutting out his miserable surroundings. “Aw, come on, Arthur, it isn’t that bad,” Ariadne said with a shrug, pushing her popcorn into his face. “I’m sure you can learn to enjoy it. After all, everyone else seems to.”

“Ariadne, I don’t think you understand. I could be doing so many other things with my time right now, and yet I’m here, at this dumb game, wasting all of it.” Arthur had accepted Ariadne’s popcorn, and was now talking with a full mouth, slurring his words together. 

“What, you think I don’t have homework to do as well? I know exactly what you mean, and I’m saying forget about it and relax!” She gave him a soft shove, smiling hopefully at his response to the popcorn.

“I don’t think that’s the best mentality to have regarding school, Ariadne, but I’ll try my best to relax a little,” Arthur finally said, giving in to his best friend. Ariadne gave him an enthusiastic high five, then ran off to get some more popcorn.

Eventually the game started back up, and Arthur tried to get into it, yet still he wasn’t that intrigued. By the time he was starting to understand the rules, the game was over, and their team won by a longshot. “Well, congrats to us,” Arthur said dryly, standing up to head home. 

Ariadne grabbed his sleeve, urgently asking him to “wait a minute, you impatient bastard!” He halted, annoyed and confused, yet obliging to Ariadne’s request. “Don’t you think you should at least say hi to Eames? Maybe tell him he did a good job?” She asked, admonishing him. Arthur grimaced, hoping he wouldn’t have to face Eames again. 

“Fine, lead the way.” Arthur said with spite in his voice, clearly not thrilled about going to say hi to Eames. However Ariadne skillfully made her way through the crowd and somehow found Eames before he was whisked away with the rest of the team.

“Eames! Fancy seeing you here!” Ariadne called, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s arm. Arthur attempted to appear to be happy, but apparently he wasn’t a very great actor.  
“What’s wrong with you, Arthur? Got a stick up your ass?” Eames asked jokingly, grinning at him, apparently proud of himself. 

“Good job Eames,” Arthur huffed out, looking down at his feet as he did so. Eames’ smile got larger, and he slapped Arthur on the back in a satisfactory manner. 

“I appreciate it, Arthur. Tell me, were you impressed?” Eames asked, getting a shrug from Arthur in response. Eames frowned, clearly disappointed. “Oh, you were too busy ogling your girlfriend to notice me? I see how it is.”

Arthur was about to open his mouth and correct Eames’ mistake, alas Ariadne was faster. “Actually, I’m not his girlfriend, I’m his best friend and love consultant. I’m pretty sure he’s gay, anyway,” Ariadne practically shouted so she could be heard over all of the bustling people around them. Arthur’s eyes widened and he felt sick.

“I’m not gay, Ariadne.” Arthur said, very much aware that his face had gone pale. Eames’ smile returned, looking back and forth between the self-assured Ariadne and the clammy Arthur.

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy. Anyway, we best be going,” Ariadne said, grabbing Arthur’s arm and dragging him away from Eames the same way she had dragged him over.

“Wait a minute, you guys,” Eames said, walking over to them with long strides. Ariadne stopped and allowed a smile to form on her face before she wiped it right back off and turned around. 

“Hmm?” She asked, trying to look as though she wasn’t interested. Arthur had no idea how to appear or what to say, so he stood there like a limp noodle.

“I’m going to be having a victory party at my place, and I was wondering if you guys wanted to come? Free food and drinks, on me,” Eames said, almost out of breath, already exhausted from the football game. Ariadne raised an eyebrow, not bothering to look at Arthur’s rather unpleasant expression. 

“Free food?” She asked, grinning again. Eames nodded, smiling as well, and Arthur was ready to vomit right then and there. “We’ll be there.”

Once they were back in Ariadne’s car, Arthur finally let his frustration unleash. “I’m pretty sure he’s gay? I’m pretty sure he’s gay? Really, Ariadne, of all the things to say? What the Hell were you thinking, you shit friend? I’m pretty sure he’s gay? Really?” Ariadne opened her mouth to defend herself, but Arthur wasn’t finished, “Not only is he going to torment me even more from this day forth, but we’re going to his ridiculous party? He’s probably told all of the team by now, and by the time the party starts I’m pretty sure they will have found a way to contact the pope! How do you know they’re not going to sabotage me, pull some awful prank?” Arthur’s face was red, and Ariadne had been shushing him during his whole speech. 

“Arthur, listen, you are fine. Nobody is going to mess with you, cause that’ll mean they’re messing with me, and I’d never let them do that. Also, I’m 90% sure that Eames is also gay and has the hots for you. Now please, calm. The. Fuck. Down” She commanded, holding her hand over his mouth. Arthur began to calm down a little, his breathing slowing and his fidgeting ceasing. Ariadne shushed him a bit more, then finally started the car and pulled out of the school.

By the time they reaches Eames’ house, it looked like half of the school was there. There were teens in the yard, in the house, on the fence and even on the roof. “Would you look at that,” Ariadne said, admiring the architecture of Eames’ mini-mansion. Did Arthur forget to mention Eames’ family was loaded?

“Gee whiz,” Arthur murmured, in similar awe. It took them a minute to actually exit the vehicle and even longer to make their way to the front door. Much to Arthur’s dismay, it was Eames that opened the door, his face lighting up when he saw Arthur. 

“You made it!” Eames said, practically glowing. Arthur scowled at him. “So, do you guys want a drink? We’ve got beers in the back,” Eames continued, rubbing the back of his neck nervously, clearly not oblivious to Arthur’s irritation. 

“We’d love some,” Ariadne replied, giving Eames a fake smile and pinching Arthur so he would smile as well. Arthur tried his best to appear pleasant once more. It didn’t work out. Eames led them through his house, finally ending in the back room that had a pool table and a few coolers full of beers. Ariadne grabbed one for Arthur and pushed it into his hands, giving him a death glare. Arthur had had beers before, but he didn’t do very well at holding his liquor. Nevertheless, he popped off the cap and took a swig from the bottle, thanking Eames.

After four more beers, Arthur had become rather tipsy. “Bloody Hell, Arthur, you have dimples!” Eames gasped in shock, staring at the normally stoic face of Arthur’s that was now full of giggles and grins. “So fucking cute,” Eames said in a hushed breath, a bit drunk himself. 

“Aw you two,” Ariadne said with a sense of accomplishment, “you’re so—“ Ariadne was cut off by vile, putrid puke rising up her throat, “oh shit.” Ariadne retched in a nearby flower pot, emptying the contents of her stomach, including the shitty concession stand popcorn from earlier. Everyone in the room groaned, a few others vomiting in response to Ariadne. 

“Ew, we gotta get out of here,” Eames said, gagging. Arthur giggled again, pointing at Ariadne with a shaky hand.

“Serves you right, you turd,” Arthur grunted, still upset about earlier. Ariadne groaned in response, preoccupied in her search for tissues so she could get the vomit out of her hair.

“Come on, Arthur,” Eames urged, getting up from the couch and stumbling upstairs. Arthur followed, a bit oblivious. “What am I going to tell my parents?” Eames finally asked once they had been stopped for the hall for about a minute of utter silence. “Fuck….”

“It’s not… that bad,” Arthur said with a shrug, leaning against the wall for support to keep him from toppling over. “I mean, it could be worse. No one’s dead yet.”

Eames laughed at that, shaking his head. “You’re too much, Arthur.” Arthur fell back into another fit of giggles, slumping into a small heap on the ground and wiping tears from his eyes.

“I’m such a mess when I’m drunk,” Arthur said with a hiccup, shaking his head to mimic Eames. “It doesn’t seem fair, that I’m a slobbering fool and you’re still so damn sexy.” Arthur said, not registering what he was saying. Eames’ smile fell from his face, and his eyes widened. Arthur didn’t notice this either. 

“Wait, what did you say?” Eames asked, his mouth still hanging open. Arthur opened his mouth to respond, then closed it again, looking confused.

“I don’t remember,” Arthur said, shrugging and smiling, pushing himself off of the ground. “Did I say something wrong?”

Eames was speechless. “No, no, you’re fine,” He finally said, running his hand through his hair nervously. “I, uh, gotta go do something.” Eames breathed out after another minute, stumbling away whilst keeping his eye on the dimpled Arthur. Arthur, not knowing what to do, went to find Ariadne. Luckily for them, Yusuf had agreed to give them a ride home.

“I swear you two are babies,” Yusuf said when he finally pulled up, helping them into his minivan. “The hell, Arthur? I’ve never seen you this drunk before,” Yusuf exclaimed after struggling to help Arthur buckle in his seatbelt. He kept missing the clasp. “Ariadne, on the other hand, I suppose you’ve been worse. Please don’t vomit in here.”

Yusuf dropped them off at their homes, and had to escort Arthur to his room. Lucky for them, his parents were out. “Don’t do any dumb shit, just drink some water and get to bed. Don’t choke on your vomit. See you Monday.” Yusuf was very brief and yet incredibly efficient. Arthur did exactly as he said, and by the next morning he woke up with a killer migraine and very little recollection of what had happened at the party the night before.


End file.
